Abstract

The word “tragedy,” as Irish critic Shaun Richards points out, “is a term frequently used to describe the contemporary Northern Irish situation. It is applied both by newspaper headline writers trying to express the sense of futility and loss at the brutal extinction of individual lives and by commentators attempting to convey a sense of the country and its history in more general terms.” 1 Since identifying this particular use of the word, it has be- come clear that the Irish are not referring to tragedy in general, but to Greek tragedy in particular. For example, Deaglán de Bréadun writes in The Irish Times: “The whole community knows outright disaster was only narrowly averted at Drumcree last year [1996]. There is also a terrible creeping feeling that Drumcree Three will be upon us soon and that, like a Greek tragedy, this time disaster is inevitable.” 2 Another article the following year, on Sinn Fein’s exclusion from the 1998 Peace Process, reported: “One long-distance peace processor lamented that today’s events were ‘like a Greek tragedy. You can see the end coming but you can’t do any- thing about it.’” This “language of exhausted fatalism” 4 is not unfamiliar to the Irish, and offers an explanation for the more than twenty Irish authors who have translated, produced, or adapted over two dozen Irish versions of Greek tragedies in the last century alone. 5 Irish poets have translated the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, yet all with a distinctly Irish stamp. Moreover, these Irish-Greek adaptations all, in one way or another, comment upon and question the instability of twentieth-century Ireland – the people, the poets, and the divided country